ELEANOR - a deleted scene from Blood Lines
by windchymes
Summary: Sometimes the past catches up with you.


**I wrote this a very long time ago. It's a deleted scenes from my first fan fiction, Blood Lines, and I posted it as an outtake over on Twilighted net in 2010. I found it again today and thought I should bring it over here, too, so all my stories are in one place.**

**Background: This is from Chapter 5 of Blood Lines. For those who haven't read BL, Edward and Bella's wedding is approaching when Edward discovers he fathered a son, George, back in his human time. And George is still alive. In this chapter, Edward and Bella have gone to meet George in the Chicago nursing home where he lives. Rebecca is George's granddaughter (Edward's great-granddaughter) and they both think Edward is a distant relative.**

**In the lead up to this scene they've all just visited George's room and found him sleeping. So a rather anxious Edward has suggested Rebecca join him and Bella for lunch while they wait for George to wake. His suggestion comes as a surprise to Bella, but there's another, bigger, surprise in store...**

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The elevator doors hissed open and we stepped out into the lobby and headed towards the glass sliding doors that lead outside. We were almost there when Rebecca stopped suddenly, her gaze fixed on a woman in a dark suit who was looking through some papers at the Reception desk.

"Oh! That's Wendy, the Administrator, and I really need to check a couple of things with her." She grimaced slightly. "I'm sorry, but, do you mind waiting a moment? Please?"

Clearly this was an opportunity too good for Rebecca to pass up and Edward smiled.

"No, not at all," he said politely.

There were chairs scattered across the lobby in groups of three or four. Most of them were occupied by residents and their guests, except for the cluster in the corner where only one seat was taken by a white haired old lady who seemed to be asleep.

We sat quietly. Edward's eyes were down and his fingers were drilling a disjointed rhythm on his thighs as I reached over, covering one hand with my own.

"Edward ... ," I began, but he didn't respond. "Edward ... ," I tried again, desperate to know what he'd seen in Rebecca's thoughts and what was behind his suggestion that we all eat lunch. But suddenly he stiffened. His eyes widened, huge with shock. He turned his head slowly to the left and seemed almost afraid of the old lady who was awake now and staring straight at him.

"It _is _you!" she said, smiling. "I thought so. Edward Masen, well, it's been so long."

My mouth swung open. Shit! She knew him?

Edward's fingers were claws on his legs, slowly contracting into fists and I thought he might tear through the denim. His knuckles were straining against the skin and I could actually see the faint lines of his dead veins through the backs of his hands. His gaze flicked urgently between Rebecca, still engrossed in conversation at the reception desk, and the fragile, white-haired woman in the chair on his left. Her faded blue eyes were challenging, full of spirit.

"Well, aren't you going to say hello?" the old lady asked and I watched Edward closely, taking my lead from him - waiting to see what he'd do.

His throat moved slowly as he swallowed.

"Er ... hello."

She gave a little smirk. "You don't remember me, do you?"

There was a pause, Edward's eyes still making rapid-fire moves back and forth to Rebecca. My heart was pounding out a life-time's worth of beats in my chest.

"I suppose I look a little different," she said. "But so do you. You were always handsome, but now you seem even more so, somehow." And then she giggled, an almost girlish giggle.

My mind raced through a hundred possibilities. Was this an old teacher from one of the many high schools Edward had attended? Or maybe a former patient of Carlisle's? But she'd said _Masen_ ...

No, surely not ...

"I remember you," Edward said carefully, softly. "You lived next door to me when I was ... younger."

When he was _human._

My breath caught in my throat as the old woman's eyes lit up, twinkling brighter now at his recognition.

"You were the annoying little sister I never had," Edward added and he actually managed a weak smile, "How are you, Eleanor?"

My mind was reeling as the old lady shrugged.

"I'm old. What can you say about that?"

Edward nodded. "Not a lot," he said.

His cool voice, his smooth expression - to the outside world Edward would probably seem calm and polite, but his hands were fists on his thighs, his jaw was tense and his eyes were taking in everything around us. I tried to hold his hand but he wouldn't let me. It wasn't hard to work out why - in his current state there was a chance he'd break my bones.

"So are you moving in here, too?" Eleanor asked. "Maybe you can have the room next to mine, it's empty since Mr Galbraith died." Then she looked around carefully before turning back to Edward and leaning in conspiratorially. Edward hesitantly bent his head towards hers.

"He _said_ his name was Galbraith, but I know the truth." She nodded seriously.

"And what's that,?" Edward asked.

"He was Jimmy Hoffa," she whispered.

"Ah, I see." He was serious as he nodded. "I can understand why he would need to keep that quiet."

"Of course," Eleanor said, then leant back in her chair.

Edward's body seemed to relax slightly so obviously there was nothing in Eleanor's thoughts to concern him. And clearly it hadn't occurred to her that Edward should be as bent and wrinkled as she was.

"I was nine when you left. You had that terrible 'flu," she said.

"Yes, I did."  
"It was sad about your parents. They were nice people."

"Yes, they were."

"Mother said you went to live with the doctor from the hospital, is that right?"

"It is, yes."

She nodded, obviously getting this all straight in her mind. She peered closely at him.

"So you don't need your glasses anymore, then? Did you get that laser surgery they have now?"

The corner of Edward's lips twitched and his eyes slid quickly to me and my open mouth.

"Glasses?" I whispered and he gave a slight nod of his head before he turned his attention back to Eleanor.

"I only used them for reading, remember?"

"Oh, that's right." She nodded. "My memory's not what it used to be." Well, it seemed fine to me! "I remember now, you wore them when you gave me lessons, so you could read the music." She sighed. "I was a terrible student and you were so patient with me." Then a wicked smile crossed her lips. "But you were naughty, too." She wagged a finger at him. "What was that song you taught me? It was the one thing I managed to play properly and it drove my mother mad." Eleanor frowned as she tried to catch the memory.

"When the Saints Go Marching In," Edward said gently.

"That was it! I'd play it over and over, singing at the top of my voice, and she'd curse you! '_That wretched boy!' _she'd say. '_He's supposed to be teaching you Mozart_!'"

Edward chuckled and Eleanor let out a laugh like a cackle which quickly turned into a cough.

"I'm alright," she waved Edward's attentions away as she caught her breath. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching, but no-one was. "So did you ever get married, Edward? You would have had the ladies after you, I'm sure."

"Er, not married, not yet ... ,"

"Not yet! You're leaving your run a bit late, even if you have kept yourself looking nice. Although it shows in your eyes," she said quietly. "Your eyes are old, and the green has faded away." She reached up a shaking, bony hand and softly touched his cheek. "Huh!" she gave a sharp laugh and brought her hand down to rest on his, rubbing back and forth over his skin. "The circulation is one of the first things to go, isn't it? My hands are always cold and I wear woolly socks even in summer, do you?"

"All the time," Edward answered, smiling, and she nodded approvingly. Then her eyes fell on me.

"Is this a friend of yours?"

"Yes, this is Bella." He smiled at me and I squeezed his hand. This time he let my fingers stay.

"Hello," I said and she looked at me keenly.

"Hello, Bella." Then she leant in close to Edward and whispered. "Are you serious about her?"

He leant closer and whispered, too. "Yes, I am."

"I think she's very fond of you."

"I'm very fond of her too."

Eleanor sat back nodding. "Maybe it's not too late, then, Edward." And she winked at him before going onto something else. "My father never forgave you for breaking that chimney pot, you know." Then she leant towards me. "He'd sit in the big tree in his back yard with a sling shot and shoot rocks at our chimney pot. It was a big, fancy thing, my father had it imported from Italy. Had a gargoyle on it and Edward here knocked its nose clean off and took a piece out of its wing!" She shook her head grinning. "Father was very angry."

Edward glanced at me and his lips twisted into a smirk when he saw the shock on my face.

"You brat," I whispered. He winked, then turned back to Eleanor, his face smooth now.

"Your father's anger was understandable, Eleanor. But _my_ father did make sure I was suitably punished." Grinning, he reached around and pointedly rubbed his backside and that sent Eleanor into a round of wheezy laughter. "How did you remember that?" Edward asked, still smiling. "I was twelve or thirteen when it happened, so you would have only been about five or six."

She shrugged. "I just do. It's funny, the things that stick in your memory. And the things you forget that you thought you wouldn't," she added quietly, thoughtfully.

Edward shifted a little in his seat. "Yes, it is. So, did _you_ get married, Eleanor?" He gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head. Obviously her mind was filling with more images of her past.

"I married Charlie Barnes when I was nineteen. Remember Charlie Barnes? He lived near the Church."

Edward's brow creased in concentration but it seemed Charlie Barnes eluded him.

"Er ... not really, no."

"He used to drag a stick along the railings of the front fences and make all the dogs on the street bark." Edward shook his head with an apologetic smile. "Hmph, your memory's going too, is it? Well, I'm not surprised. How old are you now? You'd have to be over a hundred?"  
He swallowed hard. "One hundred and seven," he mumbled quietly.

"Well, you'll be the oldest one here then, but not by much. Caroline Schuster is a hundred and three ... well, that's what she _says_."

"You have a long way to go, then," said Edward. "You're just a spring chicken at ninety eight."

She laughed again. "It's all relative, isn't it?"

"It is," Edward agreed. "So, you married Charlie Barnes?"

"Yes. But he's gone now." Her voice trailed off a little and she frowned. "I can't remember when he left me." Then her frown lifted and she looked up at us, eyes bright. "We had five children. Three boys, two girls. They're spread all over now, but I still have one daughter who's local. She comes twice every week."

"That's good." Edward gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she smiled.  
"Yes, it is. She's a good girl, I'm lucky to have her." She gave a sigh and settled back a little more in the chair. She seemed tired now.

Edward's head turned towards the Reception desk. Rebecca was still talking to the Administrator, but a nurse was coming towards us with a wheelchair. Her eyes raked over Edward as she got closer, obviously appreciating him, but thankfully there were none of the usual signs associated with an Edward-sighting. No straightening of the posture, no licking of lips.

"Sorry for the wait, Eleanor," she said, smiling at the old woman. "I've got a wheelchair now, so we can take you into the garden for some fresh air."

Eleanor lifted an arm for the nurse to take and Edward stood to help.

"Thank you," the nurse smiled at him. "Are you a relative?"

"He used to live next door when we were children," Eleanor said brusquely. "He taught me the piano and broke my father's chimney pot. We've been talking over old times."

The nurse didn't seem too surprised.

"Well, that sounds lovely." She smiled and with Edward's gentle assistance they helped Eleanor into the chair. Once she was comfortably seated, Eleanor reached out her hand to Edward and he crouched down beside her.

"It was a very great pleasure to see you, again, Eleanor," he said, taking her hand in his.

She smiled warmly, eyes twinkling. "Good to see you, too, Edward."

He kissed her hand lightly and she giggled like a teenager.

The nurse smiled at Edward as he stood. "Thank you," she mouthed. "You've been very kind." She gave a parting nod as she began to manoeuvre the wheelchair across the foyer.

Edward took my hand as we watched Eleanor disappear through the garden doors. She was singing _When the Saints Go Marching In_ as she went.

**The End**

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**I hope you enjoyed :)**


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